When I was 17 I moved to manhattan and lived at the Jane West Hotel (parenthetically please add the tedious, as it was then called). It was a 10x8 room and shared showers. The clientele were either crazies or European kids on a tour (we didn't call them Eurotrash yet!). I was the only clueless refugee from the suburbs living there, so clueless that though a Dylan fan I had not yet heard of the Chelsea Hotel and therefore did not realize I was living out my youthful decadence and confusion on the wrong block. The movie Liquid Sky came out about then and the line, I was raised in Conecticut to come to NY and be alternative (or to that effect) summed up my adventure. I come from Connecticut and kill with my pussy is anatomically inappropriate for me.
I remember one guy who used to sit on the landing reading Heidegger. And the time I woke up late and ran to the roof to gauge what time it was and there was a cruiseship going down the Hudson and you couldn't even see NJ it was so big. The guy and the cruiseships are gone, I suppose.
I remember one guy who used to sit on the landing reading Heidegger. And the time I woke up late and ran to the roof to gauge what time it was and there was a cruiseship going down the Hudson and you couldn't even see NJ it was so big. The guy and the cruiseships are gone, I suppose.
